


Baby It's Cold Outside

by mander3_swish



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Brooklyn, M/M, New York City, Post-Canon, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 14:53:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5669983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mander3_swish/pseuds/mander3_swish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>post-513 set in NYC. Mostly fluff with a side of porn. Justin starts his day with a run in the freezing cold, hopes for inspiration at the studio, and then enjoys a sexy visit from Brian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby It's Cold Outside

**Author's Note:**

  * For [everyone!](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=everyone%21).



Crawling out of bed at the asscrack of dawn was not something Justin enjoyed. Even though it was January and dawn was a reasonable hour, getting up to go for a morning run around the frozen streets of Brooklyn was not exactly his idea of fun. Maybe if he had Brian to wake him up with a blowjob, he'd be slightly more amenable to the situation. But he knew if he didn't haul ass and go for a run before heading to the studio, he'd likely produce shit for art that day. He needed the endorphin high to stimulate his creativity.

He slipped into his running gear, sleek and high tech. He loved the tight fit against his body, the way the fabric held him in, kept him together because when he ran, he sometimes got so lost in it, it was is if was flying, not paying attention to anything. 

It was 7:30 by the time he made it out the doors of the front of his building. The sun must have been just below the horizon as the sky was alight with gorgeous colors that he could only ever hope to capture. He tripped a little on some uneven pavement -pay attention dummy- he chastised himself. 

Regaining focus, he just did a slow jog to warm up until he made it onto the park trails. Not surprisingly, he was very nearly the only one out in the park jogging. The light dusting of snow the day before being the major deterrent for most, but Justin loved how the snow made everything ghostly. And then when the sun caught the snow crystals, the park just sparkled. Prospect Park offered such great views and vistas, perfectly framed vignettes, that he wished sometimes that he was a traditional landscape artist. But of course the kind of control that would require would be out of the question with his ongoing fight with his hand.

A quick glance at his fitbit told him he was already at 4km, so he headed in the direction of his studio. He could shower and change there as he had made sure to include a full bathroom when he made the upgrades last year. There was no telling what sort of messy creative endeavors he would get up to, or you know, unscheduled studio visits from Brian (aka some afternoon delight) that required some clean-up or having the main action taking place in yet another shower.

Fresh out of the shower, steaming mug of coffee in hand, he stood in front of his most recent canvas. His head was slightly cocked to the side as he scrutinized the work he'd done on it the day before. It was okay; it was progress, but he still had a lot to accomplish that day if he had any hope of finishing three other paintings by the end of the month. 

Taking one more sip of coffee and then setting the mug aside, he picked up his pallet and the right sized brush. The music he'd put on early flowed through his body and out onto the canvas. Music never seemed to fail to help get his creativity energized and engaged. It was one of the most important parts of his process. A note or a phrase of melody might show up on the canvas as dab or a sweep of translucent yellow. Some playlists also brought back rushes of memory from his days at Babylon. With thoughts of his younger days and sense memory feelings of foil confetti swirling all around him, splatters of silver and other metallics were a recent addition to his usual style and motifs. 

Nostalgia was becoming the core of this new series. It must be in part due to all the time he and Brian had spent back in Pittsburgh at Christmas and New Years. When they weren't eating too much baked ziti and Christmas cookies at Deb and Carl's, they were dancing and partying like teenagers at Babylon. He had also spent an afternoon with his mom at the art gallery. He had definitely been inspired by the several of classic pieces in the modern art salons, but why his mother was still so obsessed with all that high realism of classical painting, he didn't know if he actually wanted to know. 

And if Brian had shown up for a secret tryst in the men's room, well that didn't hurt to break up the day.

***

Brian placed soft kisses along Justin's neck, startling him out of his contemplative state. Justin was trying to decide if the painting was indeed complete or if it was missing something. Either way, he had been staring at it for a solid 15 minutes and hadn't really processed that Brian had entered the studio.

"Brian! That tickles!" he yelped. "When did you get here?"

"My flight landed a couple of hours ago and I came directly here." Brian turned Justin in his arms, pulling him snug against him. "Good to be back."

With his hands held awkwardly away from Brian, trying not to get any paint splotches on Brain's overcoat, he wrapped his arms around Brian and pulled him in tight.

"So how's Gus? I've been worried sick," Justin asked. 

"Bored to fucking death, but being relentlessly pampered by the Moms and JR. God that girl is turning into her grandmother; Lord help us all." 

"Brian, I mean his leg. How long will he be in the cast?" Justin clarified. "I've told you about when I broke my leg when I was 12 and had a cast on for 2 months? It was during summer holidays. Worst. Summer. Ever. And then it took another 2 months of rehab exercises to get my strength back up."

"Well good thing you didn't play sports. Sonny-boy's hockey team is gonna be SOL without their star right winger. And not to mention his provincial team soccer tryouts will be during his rehab, so he might end up being side-lined for that season too." 

"Aww that sucks! Poor kid." 

"But…" Brian said, and placed a kiss to Justin's lips, "enough about that. I haven't had an orgasm in nearly 36 hours…" and Justin gasped, Brian eye-rolled "...so I think we need to relieve some of my tension, you know, tending to an injured child and all." 

Justin just laughed, shaking his head with a smile. "Since when do you need an excuse for us to fuck?"

"Oh riiight," Brian replied with a smirk.

***

Justin licked his way up Brian's body once he'd pulled off the pants pooled around Brian's ankles. He took his time, savoring every nuance of flesh beneath his tongue. Brian shivered when Justin flicked his tongue just at the crease of his knee. He loved that he could still find all the hidden places on Brian's body that when manipulated elicited certain automatic responses. He knew no one else had taken the time, nor given the time, to do that before, so they were secrets that Justin held dear. Brian hated it. But not really. Plus, it was his turn next, and he was more than capable of exacting some deliciously torturous revenge. 

Brian's knees hit the couch and Justin gave him a little push so he'd lay back and let him get him off.

He wrapped his fingers around the base of Brian's dick before sinking his mouth down around it. A quiet moan escaped past Brian's lips as Justin sucked back up and off. A thin strand of saliva stretched out before Justin kissed and then licked around the head while simultaneously stroking up and down. The rhythm was too slow for Brian's liking, but Justin knew what he was doing by wanting to string him along and take a tortuous amount of time. He licked down, down over the loose flesh of his balls and towards Brian's hole. Brian automatically pulled up his legs for Justin to have better access. Having Brian (almost) always give himself over so freely always made Justin's heartbeat quicken. 

As he pushed his face between Brian's cheeks, thoughts of that first night flooded into his mind. He was such a clueless twat, but lucky for him Brian was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt on more than one occasion. 

He licked into Brian's hole, pushing his tongue in as far as he could and worked him open. His chin was just as wet with spit as Brian's ass by the time he had Brian so very worked up. Brian had sunk his fingers into Justin's hair and was gripping it so hard Justin knew he could come at any second. He wrapped his hand back around Brian's dick and jerked him once, twice, in time with his licking and sucking. 

Brian came with a shout and Justin stroked him until he was so sensitive Brian grabbed his wrist to pull him off. Justin used the towel from his earlier shower to wipe the spit from his chin and mouth before crawling his way up Brian's body. Their lips met in a delicate, gentle kiss, the searing heat from before waning in the post-orgasmic haze. 

They lazily made out on the couch for a while until Justin's erection was persistently being rubbed into Brian's thigh.

"Your turn," Brian said before slipping out from beneath Justin. He held out his hands to Justin to help him off the couch. "Let's get you out of this poor painterly attire and into your much more gorgeous birthday suit. That okay? Unless you want to wait until we're home? I'm sure sitting in the back of a cab for a half hour, with what will probably be some painful blue balls, won't kill the mood at all." 

Justin groaned and stood up, and then let Brian undress him as all the work and tiredness from the past three weeks caught up with him again. He let out a sharp hiss when he felt the cold rush of air over his dick, followed by the soft wet glide of Brian's mouth. It was only for a second, but the shock to the system worked nearly as good as nice hot cup of coffee, only ten million times as unsatisfying in this moment. 

"No come back," Justin whined. Brian gives his chest a little push, sending him back onto the couch.

"Good things come to boys who wait," Brian teased. _The fucker_.


End file.
